


HelloGoodbye

by NormalDemonicBehavior



Category: American Horror Story: 1984, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Murder, Normal end of the world nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormalDemonicBehavior/pseuds/NormalDemonicBehavior
Summary: What happens to the lost souls at Camp Redwood after the apocalypse, when the whole world becomes one big Hell-mouth?
Relationships: Xavier Plympton & Reader, Xavier Plympton & You, Xavier Plympton/Reader, Xavier Plympton/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	HelloGoodbye

The day the world ended started out the same as any other. 

You woke up to the sunrise, wrapped in a jumble of blankets, limbs and bleached hair.  
Sleep wasn’t really necessary for the undead, but it just came naturally, like muscle memory. Plus it was a nice way to pass the time. 

But it was what came after a good night’s sleep that was your favorite part of the day, more specifically it was waking up next to him.  
There are few things better in life (past or present) than waking up in his arms.

Your lover? Boyfriend? Mutual sufferer in eternal purgatory?

You’re not really sure what you would call him. You and Xavier both agreed the afterlife was no place for labels.  
But if you asked any of the other souls shackled to this hellmouth with you, they would all call you two the same thing; inseparable. 

It had been that way for decades, you spent almost every reawoken moment together. He was the one thing that made your afterlife feel as though it’s axis tipped more towards heaven than hell.

He was the light at the end of the tunnel. And looking at him now, eyes closed, lips parted, and sleeping soundly without a care in the world. You might go as far as to say you are thankful you didn’t listen to your gut, and made the (what at the time you thought regrettable) decision to take your friend's extra ticket and step foot on the haunted site for a music festival, one that never even happened mind you.  
You got stabbed in the face and she didn’t get to blow Billy Idol, you guess you would call the weekend a bust for the both of you.

You’re comfortably laying back and reminiscing, when you feel Xavier stir.

The long hum that leaves his lips, followed by their soft touch on your shoulder lets you know he’s awake and it’s followed by a mumbled “Good morning”.

“Good morning” you answer back. Leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. A little too chaste for his liking, so before you can pull away he grabs hold of the back of your neck and pulls you back down for more. 

One perk of being dead, no morning breath. There’s no need to break the mood with a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Not that that would stop him anyways, through your time with Xavier you have come to realize that there are very few things he won’t try, and even less he would determine “too gross” to kill his mood.

So much like countless mornings before this, it’s a good couple of hours before you two make it out of bed and decide to properly “get up”.

“What should we do today?” He asks as he’s rummaging through the luggage some ghost adventurer left behind in their haste to “get the fuck out of this place”. It had been years since anyone around here had partaken in any blood sport. But that didn’t mean there was still no fun in scaring the tourists. (And maybe occasional bets were taken to see who could get a camper to wet themselves first). 

He pauses and holds up a pair of dark blue wranglers, waiting for your opinion.  
You just shake your head in dismissal.

“We haven’t been in the lake in a while. We could take a dip...then maybe you could take a dip…” you say wiggling your eyebrows to insinuate your innuendo, while you make your way over to the stash, taking over the search for yourself.

“No”

“Why not?” You know the reason for his rejection, but can’t help giving him a little pout anyways.

“After what happened last time? Not happening.” His voice is stern but with the underlying playfulness that’s always present between the two of you.

“Oh come on...I won’t let that happen again.”

“Believe it or not, drowning is not fun, dead or alive. And you know what’s worse than drowning once? Coming back to and drowning again because the person with their legs wrapped around your head hasn’t even noticed!” He emphasizes his “anger” by snatching the green umbro shorts you’d found from your hands and proceeding to dramatically stomp his legs through the holes before pulling them up around his hips.

“You only have yourself to blame for that, if you weren’t always such a tease I would have known something was wrong. I just thought you were trying to work me up and build my anticipation, not give me some signal your foot was stuck in the mud” You argue back tossing him a cut off Duran Duran t-shirt, that despite its tag saying 2018 has been given holes and bleached to give it a “vintage” look. The irony of donning such items always makes you laugh.

As he finishes getting dressed you simply look at him with that same pout back on your face, although it slowly morphs into a smile as you see his resolve slipping away. 

Who is he kidding, he could never say no to you. He would do anything you ever asked. He would drown every hour, on the hour, if it kept you looking at him the way you are now.

“Fine, but if I start slapping your thighs it is not to keep you in line, it’s me begging for oxygen.”

“Ok” you agree with a chuckle as you grab his hand and head to the door, but he holds his place, making you turn and raise a brow at him.

“And the next time those birdwatchers are in camp, you have to blow me in front of that Condor’s nest they all jizz their jeans for.”

“Sure” you answer, shrugging your shoulders, not a bad trade...

“While they’re taking pictures of it.”

You pause for barely a moment to think that over, who were /you/ kidding, you’re just as whipped as he is.

“Deal”

You weren’t in the water very long before you heard it, a siren sounding in the distance.  
Xavier had only just removed your bottoms before you were pulling him up by his hair.

“What?” He asks, as he emerges, shaking droplets out his face with a look of confusion mixed with some underlying self doubt. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you hear that?” 

As you both listen the sirens start to get louder and new ones join in the cacophony of sounding alarms.  
“Yea, they’re probably just testing the storm sirens?”

“All of them?”

Before Xavier can talk you out of worrying and let him “get back to work” you’re interrupted by Chet yelling at you from the dock.

“Hey! You guys should see this”

Once you both redress you make your way to the cabin which once upon a time was assigned to the male counselors, but now it serves as more of a clubhouse for the lingering spirits. Upon entry you see almost every soul in the camp crowded around the TV. 

There have only been two occasions when you have all collectively been in the same place at the same time; when you got revenge on Margaret, and when you made plans for what to do about the “Ramirez problem”.  
Something big must be happening.

“What’s going on?” Xavier inquires as you join the group.

“The end of the world” Answers Montana, in a voice so calm she almost sounds bored, it’s like that happens every week.

“Oh no did Belinda Carlyle die?!”

“No...not yet anyway”

Your attention is brought back to the flat screen television Jingle’s son Bobby had gifted you. After his visit, he had been kind enough to set up wifi around the camp, as well as pay for a cable package, with the help of Brooke and Rita (or whatever her real name was). After hours of trying to explain how a touch screen works, as well as the grappling concept of Bluetooth; he deemed the pursuit pretty much a wash. But you did all know how to work a television, so most days were spent watching reruns of Knight Rider or Press Your Luck, and checking in with the nightly news. 

So now you found yourself surrounded by your fellow ghosts, watching the man on the tv announce the incoming missiles and saying a teary goodbye to his family.

“What does this mean? I mean for us?” The question came from one of the victims of the first massacre in the 70s, whose name you were now feeling a little guilty for never bothering to learn.

It was a good question nonetheless, your souls kept coming back after just about any obstacle thrown at you, staying attached to the camp, but would they stay attached to a camp that wasn’t even there?  
Unfortunately this was also a question nobody knew the answer to.

“Should we go to a basement or something?” Chet chimed in

“I doubt a basement will win the fight against a nuclear bomb, at least this close to the blast radius.” Trevor now spoke up, making his way over to the television to check another news channel, before addressing the group. “Besides does that even matter for us?”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough”

As everyone is switching back and forth between intently checking the news and murmuring confusion between each other, you pull Xavier aside.

“Xavier, just in case we don’t make it. I just want you to know” you start, averting your gaze as you feel the tears begin to pool in your eyes. “...I just...I’m really...you’ve been…” you’re trying to find a way to tell him how much he’s meant to you, and the amount of gratitude you have for his patience and understanding, how he’s made every day a memorable one for you, how he’s the best person you’ve ever known, dead or alive. How you don’t believe you’ve actually been stuck wandering the earth together all these years, because when you’re with him you think you must have done something right in your life, because there is no doubt in your mind this is what heaven feels like. But you can’t, you can’t get a single word out if you want to keep any semblance of calm and keep the flood gates from opening.  
Thankfully Xavier stops you before your nonsensical blubbering can go any further.

“I know, you have too.” He says this as he clasps your hands in his, before moving one hand up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek and bringing your attention back to him. As you look at him you see glassy blue orbs filled with tears that match your own, holding behind them eons of love and unsaid devotion. But he is much better at holding himself together so he marches on.

“If something happens and we don’t make it through this. Or we end up in some new shittier purgatory, I promise you I’ll come find you there! There is nothing in this life or any other that can keep me from you, okay? We’re gonna be alright though, I promise”

All you can do is nod your head, and muster up enough strength to get out a quiet “I love you”

“I love you too”

You and Xavier sit on the bunk that was once designated as his, all those years ago when he came here with the hope of a fun summer away from his troubles. Back then he was always running; running to something, running from something. There was never any certainty in his life, not even in his after life, not until you.

Now he’s starting to feel like that scared boy he once was. The one once found on the edge of death in MacArthur Park, trying so desperately to feel anything, and trying even more in vain to make that feeling last. He had nothing to loose back then in his desperate pursuit for euphoria. But he learned real fast that when things sounded too good to be true they most certainly were.  
And that’s why he holds you closer now. Because you were the greatest good he has ever known, and there is certainly no way someone as wretched and cursed as him could ever keep someone as exceptional and pure as you.  
He’d tasted bliss for too long now, and it must be time for the collector to come calling. But that didn’t mean he would let you go without a fight, because here in your arms is the only place that has ever felt like home, and he would protect his fortress come hell or high water (or the literal end of the world). 

But that fight may or may not come and right now was about settling your nerves and keeping you calm. So he puts his resolve on the back burner and moves to pull you into his lap to whisper words of love and encouragement while you wait for the missiles to strike.

You feel them before you hear them, the impact on the earth, who knows how many miles away, before it broke the sound barrier. You didn’t even have enough time to process the incoming force before you were knocked out and everything and everyone you had known for decades was wiped away.

/

There is no way to tell how much time has passed when you wake in a pile of rubble and ash, with no discernable clue as to where you were in relation to the miles of identical rubble and ash that surrounded you. You weren’t sure where in the camp you were. The only thing keeping you believing this was even still Redwood were the semblance of remaining trees around you. Other than that there was nothing else insight but dirt and debri, and no sign of any other soul. 

After you got your bearings you go in search of Xavier, or anyone else for that matter.

After a few minutes you come across a spot of land that seems vaguely familiar. Although there are no more cabins and no more dock, you’re pretty sure the crater that sits before you used to be the lake.  
The lake where you died.  
The lake you had no escape from for the past 30 years.  
The lake you were swimming in only a few minutes ago.  
The lake where you and Xavier spoke your first words to each other.  
The lake where you sat on the dock dipping your toes in the water as you told one another that you loved each other for the first time.  
The lake that you used to think if you never saw again, would be too soon.  
The lake that you would now give anything to see full again.

After a couple minutes lost in your reverie, you hear a voice in the distance. One you’d recognize anywhere.  
Without a moments hesitation you take off towards its source. 

After tripping over countless branches and what you can only assume used to be one of the cabins you make it to a clearing and see Xavier bounding your way with Chet in tow.

“Oh my god! Thank god you're okay!” He breathes out as he pulls you into his embrace. You feel him exhale in relief as he holds you, before he lets you go in order to inspect you, searching for any signs of distress.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No I’m fine, are you ok?”

After looking him over in return to make sure everything’s alright and he gives you a nod, you look over to Chet, who you had quite honestly forgotten was there.

“You too?”

“Yea we’re fine, it’ll take more than one measly nuclear bomb to take down all this” he accentuates by raising his shirt and slapping his abs.

“I’m glad to see your modesty survived the blast as well” you answer giving him a wink and a nudge before you continue.  
“we should find the others.”

/

It took a couple hours to track down the rest of your group. At least what felt like it, with the clocks gone there was no telling what time it was.  
And the haze the bombs left kept it constantly looking like dusk.

After regrouping you all agreed you should look for any pieces of camp left behind, any signs of life, or just any signs of anything at all. 

/

And that’s how it went for the next couple of days. You would walk around looking for signs of life, and finding very few momentos left behind by the camp. Then every once in a while you would all regroup in the middle of the crater that was once the lake, and switch between theories of what was happening out in the rest of the world and reminiscing about times when this place was still standing. 

/

Almost everyone in your group of confidants, aside from Ray, was sitting at your usual meeting spot when he came barreling towards you all.  
“You guys come here I have to show you something.” His voice was full of excitement.

“What?” Montana asked back, thoroughly unimpressed with his optimism. You had never met two people more different. To Montana, Ray was like a pesky mosquito, who she would often shoo away, that is when she wasn’t bossing him around and telling him to “make himself useful”.

“Just trust me it’s important.”

After a few minutes of grumbling and feet dragging. You and Xavier, Montana, Trevor, and Chet made your way to the empty piece of land Ray was pointing at. Picking up Bertie and the real nurse Rita along the way. 

“What? What are we supposed to be looking at?” Bertie questioned, taking it upon herself to ask what you were all wondering. 

“Right here.” He points to a spot on the ground, that aside from the line he had made with his shoe, looked the exact same as the rest of your surroundings.

“This is the entrance to Camp Redwood.”

“How do you know? There’s nothing here.” Xavier pointed out motioning around to the surrounding emptiness.

“I have measured the number of steps to the entrance, from just about every place in this camp.”

“God somebody needs to get laid. You have way too much time on your hands.” Xavier regards. And you can’t help but let a laugh slip out.

Narrowing his eyes at that comment, Ray attempts to defend himself. “We’ve been here for decades. Chet wouldn’t even talk to me for years, and before you met y/n, you and Montana only acknowledged me when I was cleaning up your messes, and I….you know what I don’t have to explain myself. What I’m about to show you will have you praising me for the way I chose to pass the time. You should all be kissing my loafers for this.” 

Ray was really getting sick of still being the butt of the other counselors jokes and jabs. Even now at the end of the world, when he has made such a monumental discovery. 

Deciding not to waste more time getting upset he proceeds.  
“So as you know most of the camp has been destroyed and there aren’t really any notable places left behind? Well there is one. The tree we all signed our names on, well most of it anyways. But lucky for us I could still make out both Trevor and Xavier’s names. And exactly 644 steps straight ahead of those signatures is the entrance to the camp.

“You’re point being?” Montana snips, tired of waiting for him to get to the climax of his story.

“My point being. Right now I am in Camp Redwood.”  
He says, before he slowly and dramatically takes one long stride over the line he had drawn.  
“...now I’m not...”

“and I feel fine”

**Author's Note:**

> I know people have speculated about what would happen to the souls at the hellmouth after the apocalypse, would they finally get to pass over? Would they be stuck roaming a plot of land? So I started wondering if in the apocalypse the whole world would basically become one large hell-mouth and the spirits can roam free. I thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if any of them made their way to the sanctuary. And here we are.  
> I grappled with the idea of making the reader a soul from the Cortez and making this a Michael/reader fic, but figured I would try to push myself to write about someone besides him. But he will still make an appearance and cause some trouble (and maybe things get a little bit darker than I originally intended).
> 
> I honestly have no idea how far away from LA, Redwood is supposed to be. So for the sake of this it’s close enough to wipe out the whole camp.  
> Although it doesn’t seem probable that they would get lucky and that tree with their signatures would remain intact enough to still recognize, I based that off of the handful of trees at Hiroshima that made it through the atomic bomb.  
> Lastly the title of this fic Hellogoodbye, comes from the band with its namesake, the music video for their song “here in your arms” is the height of summer camp realness, and inspired me to write about Xavier.  
> Anyway, since I’m incapable of keeping my notes short but sweet, thank you for reading. It’s not my best work, but I had the idea and wanted to get it out there. Now I will go work on my wips before I start yet another new fic lol.


End file.
